


A jar of Feathers

by Wizardchester91



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU where bobby didn't die, Angels, Family, Fluff, I really should not be writing anther fic, Is this enough tags?, Love, M/M, What am I doing, What do Angels look like?, Wingfic, feathers - Freeform, too many fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-14 16:57:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4572405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wizardchester91/pseuds/Wizardchester91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mindless fluff written after I was inspired by a feather collection I have. I refuse to apologise if you explode from all the cute. One shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A jar of Feathers

No one knows about the old cookie tin Dean winchester keeps under the false bottom of the impala. If Cas knew, he would make some excuse why humans shouldn't have its contents.If Bobby knew, he would insist on researching its contents as a spell ingredient. If Sam knew he would probably make fun of him for weeks.   
So Dean keeps the Jar of feathers his own little secret. There's at least one from every Angel he's ever encountered.   
Two are from Lucifer. Black as a raven, with shades of blood red and emerald green, slightly frayed and tattered. He got them at different times, but the largest is from when Sam said yes. His heart broke seeing those huge, once beautiful wings on his baby brother.   
One is from Gadreel. He pulled it from the bastards wing before he vanquished him out of Sam. (Seriously? Is Sam a friggin angel magnet or what?) Stiff, pale cream colored with a black tip, it sits forlornly.  
Three are from Metatron. Huge, graceful, with fluffy ends fading from slate gray to Almost-white. Dean found them after cleaning up the torture chamber one day. Why is it all the evil fucking angels have gorgeous wings? Of course these are stained and oily, spotted with blood and muck. He really hates touching them.   
One is Balthazar's. Dark brown with a black tip, Dean picked it up as he was leaving the angel's hiding place. It smells faintly of Whiskey and cigars, and lends a lovely scent to the rest of the tin.   
Five are Gabriel's. They are just as eclectic as the angel that owned them, white with dark grey spots They are ridiculously soft, and Dean gets a feeling that Gabe picked the best ones on purpose, leaving them in the open for one of the boys to find. He smirks, brushing his thumb over the soft edge, thinking about the silly crush the angel had on Sammy.   
One is Sam's. Reddish brown like his hair, dean doesn't like to think about how he acquired that one.   
And then there are dean's favorite, the Dove-grey, the ones that feel so familiar under his fingers he smiles a small secret smile. These belong to his Angel, His Cas. So many memories are tied into each of these feathers, and they radiate a sense of pure LOVE. He sits for a moment, holding a sleek grey feather between his fingers, the colors like that of a common pigeon. They aren't fancy, not like the others. But it doesn't matter because they belong to the wings that wrap around his shoulder at night, that arch and stretch when Cas throws his head back in extacy during sex. That snap out aggressively when He's protective. And that alone is enough to make Dean smile fondly as he gently puts it back, closes the lid, and gently buries the Tin under a pile of used Mechanics rags.


End file.
